Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Cancel all leaves!"

"All troops into first-level combat readiness!"

"Tell the gentlemen I will be celebrating Mexican Independence Day in Culiacán!"

On September 16, 1810, Mexico declared independence from Spain.

"Yes!" Jason stood straight, "There's one more thing to report, the news department has dispatched Omega A Team to support Mr. Best, ensuring the return of uranium-238."

This was in the territory of the Soviet Union.

Victor looked at Jason, who was also looking back at him.

Without saying a word, but both understood.

If the mission failed and they were captured, Omega A Team would commit suicide as a group.

"It's a mission with a slim chance of survival," Victor muttered to himself.

"For the azure sky, for Victor!" Jason Bourne shouted with unusual determination.

Just short of a cheer!

...

With a single sentence from Victor, the war machine rolled into action once again.

After completing the first phase of the push into Sinaloa State, and settling into a stand-off situation with the drug traffickers, some personnel were allowed to take leaves, beyond those necessary for police duties.

After all...

When tension builds up in one place, it really is easy to lose control.

The best way to release stress there were several, gambling, women, drugs, but gambling and drugs were not allowed within the police force, so that left only women.

Some smart heads would drive vans or campers trailing behind the troops, staying far away during battles, but would move into the woods to provide services to these young men fierce as wolves during rest periods.

These people had an affectionate nickname: "Mexican X-Cannon Vans!"

Kennedy and others turned a blind eye.

But not everyone was fond of soliciting prostitutes.

In a park in Los Mochis, a small town in Sinaloa State,

A man dressed in an "Anti-Drug Force" uniform sat, his features resolute, rugged, with a calm demeanor showing through his brows.

His thick hair combed back, revealing his neat and orderly military image. In his deep blue eyes, it seemed as if they contained the country's spirit and resolution.

At that moment, he was sketching.

And his subject...

Was a girl selling oranges across the street.

In his strokes, one could see a lovely girl, her eyes full of hope for a new life, and the smallest hint of timidity nestled deep within them.

As he was about to finish the drawing, a police car screamed past, its loudspeaker bellowing, "All officers return to your posts! Leave is cancelled, please report back immediately!"

The man started, watching the police car depart, then looked down at the sketch in his hands, nearly complete, "What a pity."

He stood up, looked across at the girl, and although he wasn't sure, he felt that she was also looking at him.

Hesitating for a moment, he walked over, and with warmth and sincerity, handed her the drawing, "Could you tell me your name?"

The girl had noticed him for a long time already, a man in a police uniform sitting across the way, for several days in a row, how could she not have noticed?

Looking at the tall man across from her, and at his handsome face, the girl's cheeks turned red with shyness as she timidly said, "Lucy Molin."

The man nodded, turned, and started to walk away when he suddenly remembered he had forgotten to give his own name; he had been too anxious before.

"I'm Erwin, Erwin Rommel!"

After saying this, he hurried back to the base as fast as his legs could carry him.

Watching his retreating figure, then looking down at the sketch in her hands, where the girl drawn there was very beautiful, and beside her was written, "I wait for you, at every dawn and dusk; I think of you, in every casual moment; I cherish you, living through each minute filled with desperate longing. If possible, let me selfishly say, please wait for me."

When had the young girl Lucy Molin ever experienced such a fervent plea?

Her face flushed, and she lifted her big eyes to the distance.

"Erwin Rommel."

And Rommel ran back to the compound of the Ground Anti-Drug Force, 1st Battalion, 1st Company, 1st Platoon stationed in a clearing in Los Mochis.

He was the platoon leader here!

From the serial number alone, one could tell these were the elite of the elite.

Rommel was no figurehead; he had fought alongside Victor in campaigns to the south and north and had faced three drug traffickers head-on in his first battle and killed them by his own hand. He was directly promoted two ranks and was also listed as a lieutenant, commanding a platoon.

Victor also "kindly" inquired with several officers who felt that the internal police rankings and titles were too chaotic and ill-suited for use within the police force.

So, he made some minor adjustments.

Within the front-line armed forces, police ranks were no longer used, all adopted military ranks instead.

Of course, this was "suggested by internal personnel."

Victor was good at listening to suggestions.

Really, for someone of his stature to go down to the grassroots level to listen to opinions was no small feat.

While in the "Hermosillo Steel Factory," Rommel led from the front, taking a bullet in his left leg, but the platoon he led was the first to enter the steel factory.

After leaving the hospital, in the newly established order of battle, he took up the post of captain and company commander.

The company had a total of 130 men, and in addition to individual weapons, it was equipped with 8 BMP-1 infantry fighting vehicles, which had AT-3 "Sagger" anti-tank missile launchers mounted on top.

A single company, NMD, had such heavy firepower!

Victor really was willing to invest heavily.

And Rommel, acting as the company commander, also performed exceptionally, achieving first place in the inter-regimental company-level competition, first in infantry fighting vehicle rapid-firing, first in command of combat, first in individual troop quality, and a total of 9 championships.

It wouldn't be long before, with further expansion of the army, he would be due for another promotion.

He was strict with his soldiers, and just as hard on himself, which earned him significant respect within the division.

When he rushed back to the base, the whole company was already prepared.

"Commander, this is our mission, to launch a surprise attack on a narrow pass in the southern mountainous area of Culiacán, to contain the drug traffickers' sea power," the adjutant handed him the intelligence report and said.

Rommel glanced at it. "The map!"

The orderly quickly brought out the map, spread it on top of the infantry fighting vehicle, and Rommel shook his head after finding the target point on it, "No need, it's a waste to use a whole company for this place, platoon leader."

A lieutenant then poked his head out from the infantry fighting vehicle.

"You take one platoon to occupy the narrows while the remaining three platoons cross the mountain range and go straight to this point."

The adjutant came over, looked, and exclaimed, "Commander, this is the essential route that Culiacán's drug traffickers must take when fleeing to the mountains, this…"

"Are you scared?" Rommel glanced at him.

"Of course not! Victor's soldiers never fear death, only failure!" the adjutant quickly said.

"Then carry out the order, Lieutenant! On the battlefield, I am always with you!"

"Yes, Commander!"

After the order was given, the whole army marched toward the target point.

Rommel got into a Humvee, and when the convoy passed through the center of the small town, it attracted the pointing and discussion of a group of civilians, and he also saw a familiar face, the girl selling oranges on the street corner.

She saw him too.

Rommel gave a dashing salute and resolutely headed to the battlefield.

If a drone had been flying overhead, one could have seen military vehicles on each major road in the sky.

The transportation in Sinaloa was not bad at all.

Ironically, in order to facilitate the shipping of drugs and raw materials, they had built many roads; aside from Mexico City, this state had the most convenient transportation.

Because Sinaloa had many rich people,

Mainly, many big drug traffickers.

They even planned to build a subway; of course, Mexico has a subway, which has been around since 1969, but with only 20 stations and located near Mexico City.

Behind many of the infrastructure projects in the Latin American region, there are drug traffickers.

Even the security of the slums in Brazil is maintained by drug traffickers.

The funny thing is, the police can't get in, but they can negotiate with drug traffickers.

This time, the roads built by the drug traffickers also became an "accomplice" in the attack on them.

Take down Sinaloa State!

Put an end to the arrogant aura of these damned drug traffickers!

...